


Hard Work and Science

by pinkevilbob



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Horror, F/M, Mad Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 11:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20891381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkevilbob/pseuds/pinkevilbob
Summary: Caleb pushes the boundaries of sense and science, but eh, when you're a mad scientist is there any such thing as boundaries?





	Hard Work and Science

**Author's Note:**

> IT HALLOWEEN MONTH!!! Have monster!!

Jester woke up with a groan. Her everything hurt. Every muscle, every joint, every nerve, and every inch of skin was sore. Not in a “oh please let the sweet kiss of death release me from this agony” way, but more in an “all I want in life is a hot bath” way. She tried to open her eyes, but the room was too bright. “Nnngh,” she moaned. Trying to get up, she found that her arms were strapped down to her bed. No, it was too firm to be her bed.

“Oh,” someone said. It was more of a sudden intake of breath than a word. Whoever it was mumbled something to themself.

“Mmmnngh, what’s going on?” Jester asked squinting to try to see where she was, but it was still too bright. 

“You’re sentient,” the voice said like he could scarcely believe it.

Jester tugged at the straps again. “I’m what?”

“You’re sentient. You’re an intelligent being capable of independent thought.”

“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Um, can you do something about the lights?” Jester asked.

“Oh, ja, here. I shouldn’t be surprised that you have some light sensitivity.” 

Cracking an eye open, Jester found that the room was a lot more bearable. She looked around to see a sterile room. It looked almost looked like a hospital room, but there were all sorts of cages along the wall. “Where are we? Why am I strapped down?”

“Oh, this is my, well, I guess you’d call it my operating room.” The owner of the voice stepped closer. He looked like he was in his mid thirties and had long messy ginger hair. Dark circles hung under his blue eyes and almost looked like bruises against his pale skin. He wore a ratty old lab coat and a blue scarf that had seen much better days. With more sleep and a better coat, he could be handsome though. “As for the straps, they’re to keep you from accidentally pulling out your IV.”

“Oh, that makes sense, I guess. Wait, IV? What happened?” Jester asked. She tried to remember the day before, but it was a blur. The last thing she could remember was that she was spending the day with her mom.

The man turned away and rubbed his arm. His fingers and part of his right hand were all tinged black like a piece of wood that was partially burnt, and his arms were pocked with old puncture marks. “There was a car accident, Miss Lavorre. You were thrown from 50 feet out the window. They nearly didn’t find you.”

Jester leaned forward straining at the straps. “My mom! What happened to my mom?!”

“Marion Lavorre is alive and well. She sustained some bruising and lacerations, but they’ve already healed,” he said.

“Where is she? Can I go see her?” Jester asked.

The man shook his head. “She’s at home most likely, and unfortunately, you can’t see her.”

“Why not?” Jester demanded. “She must be worried sick. My mom needs me.”

“Miss Lavorre, you must believe me when I tell you that that’s an impossible request,” he said.

Tears began to well up in Jester’s eyes. She pulled at the straps holding her wrists down. “You don’t get it! She needs me!”

He let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Miss Lavorre, your mother has known about your death for the last three months. I don’t think showing up at her door would do either of you any good.”

Jester froze. “Death?” That made no sense. She was alive. She was breathing. There was no way she was dead.

“Yes, death. You died in the car crash. The reanimation of dead tissue is a complicated process, but one that I’ve managed to accomplish,” the man said. He said it blandly like it wasn’t a big deal.

It made no sense. There was no way he was telling the truth. Jester yanked at the strap on her right arm one more time and tore it off the bed along with a chunk of the bed. She stared at it.

“Could you do that before?”

Jester shook her head.

“A marked increase of strength of then. I didn’t even consider the possibility.” The man rubbed his stubbly chin. “How do you feel?”

Jester stared at him for a long moment and then began to cry. It was all too much and none of it made any sense. Sloppy tears poured down her cheeks.

Gentle hands removed the strap from her left hand. “Ah, I see your eyes are still capable of lubricat-” He stopped. “I’m sorry, I should start over. My name’s Caleb Widogast.”

“I’m Jester,” she said rubbing her eyes. She stopped and stared at her hands. They were completely blue. Jester looked at Caleb hoping for an explanation.

“I see you noticed.” Caleb looked away. “It was an unforeseen side effect. I was hoping to bring you back without any noticeable changes.”

Jester gripped the thin blanket that covered her. “Why did you do this to me?”

“Why? Because -” Caleb paused and looked down at his strangely tinted hands. “Because you were what I needed to prove my hypothesis. I’m sorry, but I had no noble reason in bringing you back.”

“What’s going to happen to me now?”

Caleb sat down at the edge of the bed. “I’m not cruel. You can stay here. I need to keep track of your vitals anyways.”

Jester looked around the stark and clinical room. It was enough to make her cry again.

“Or you could have my room. It’s not like I sleep much anyways. Though, I don’t know how much you’ll need to sleep now. Frumpkins 1, 3, 4, and 7 sleep much less than they did when they were alive, but Frumpkins 2, 5, and 8 sleep the same amount and Frumpkin 6 sleeps much more.” Caleb rambled talking with his hands animatedly. If Jester met him in a different situation, she would’ve been more curious about him, but all she wanted was to go home. He seemed to notice her and stopped. “Wait, here.” Going over to the cages, Caleb opened one and pulled out a small bengal cat. “This is the first Frumpkin. He died two years ago, came back a year and a half ago, and is my best boy.” Gently, he put Frumpkin onto Jester’s lap.

The cat purred loudly and kneaded Jester’s lap. She stroked the cat’s fur. “Is this a test or something? Do I still like animals?”

“I don’t know if you like cats in the first place, Miss Lavorre. I’m just not very good at people. Frumpkin’s better at helping them than I am,” Caleb said staring down at the foot at the bed. “I was hoping that he could help you.” And all at once he wasn’t a strange, distant mad scientist, but someone small and lost.

“He’s a very good boy,” Jester said.

Caleb nodded. “Ja, and he prefers having his chin scritched to his ears.”

Jester scratched under Frumpkin’s chin earning an even louder purr. “You didn’t think through this whole bringing me back to life thing did you?”

“Nein, I’m starting to notice that I haven’t. Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

Jester gave him her best smile under the circumstances. “I’ll have to be.”

Caleb frowned looking at her. “I won’t be upset if you’re mad at me.”

“I don’t like being mad at people.” Jester continued to scratch Frumpkin. “Besides, being mad at you doesn’t change anything.”

“Still, if there’s I can do for you,” Caleb said.

Jester looked up from Frumpkin. “I am kind of hungry.”

“Oh, ja. I’ve got something for that. Just wait a moment,” Caleb said over his shoulder as he left the room.

Jester watched as he left and then lifted Frumpkin off of her lap. “I’m sorry, but I have to check something.” With a deep breath steeling her nerves, Jester lifted the blanket off to look at the rest of her. A plain cotton hospital gown covered her. Caleb probably put it on her and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Her legs were the same blue as her arms. More concerning the large cuts held together by stitches. There were two on her left leg and one on her right. She checked her arms and found more stitches right below her left shoulder. “I guess I’m like Frankenstien now, right Frumpkin?”

“Actually, Frankenstein’s monster was made up of parts from multiple sources. All of you is Miss Jester Lavorre,” Caleb said as he came back in. “If we were to compare you to a work of fiction, the test subjects from Re-Animator would be more accurate.”

“Oh,” Jester said softly. “How long will these take to heal?”

Caleb set down two plates on the little rolling table next to Jester’s bed. “I don’t know if they will heal. Some of the Frumpkins have maintained their ability to heal, but not all of them.” Jester stared at him in horror, but he didn’t seem to notice it. “Now, I don’t know what your stomach can handle yet and I don’t expect you to eat all of this, but it’s all easy to digest.”

On the larger plate was a clumpy pile of rice, some partially squished pieces of banana, and a baggy of apple slices. The other plate just had two pieces of dry toast. It wasn’t the most appetizing looking meal, but Jester wasn’t going to complain. She took a bite of apple and grimaced. It tasted waxy and flavorless, but she put on a smile anyways. “Thank you, but um dry toast?”

“It’s easy on the stomach, but I guess you’re right about it not being the most appealing. Here.” He ducked behind a counter and came back up with a jar of peanut butter and a water bottle. “We’ll just add enough to make it easier to eat.” Caleb then added what must’ve been the thinnest layer of peanut butter known to mankind.

“Thanks.” Jester added two bits of banana and an apple slice to make a smiley face. It was happier than she felt and failed to improve her mood. She took a bite trying not to cry. Instead she changed the subject. “Why do your hands look like that?”

Caleb’s face turned red and he shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets. “Just an experiment that went poorly.”

“Sorry,” Jester said picking at her rice.

“It’s nothing to apologize for. Curiosity is important.” He put on a pair of gloves and pulled out a notebook. “How is it? Does it taste like what it did when you were alive?”

“I don’t know,” Jester said shrugging. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of the problem being in her tongue and not the bland food Caleb gave her. “I mean I guess it’s rice and toast.”

“Hmmm,” Caleb said jotting something down.

Jester tried to eat a few more bites, but her heart just wasn’t in it. Pushing the table aside, she looked over at Caleb. “Can I ask for something?”

“Ja, of course.”

“Can I have a mirror? To see what I look like?” Part of her was scared to see, but she had to know. 

Caleb paled but nodded. He must’ve realized that she was going to want one as he grabbed a mirror off the counter. “You sustained some lacerations on your face, but they’re not as severe as the ones on your body and I was able to close them with surgical glue.“ Not looking at her, he handed her the mirror.

Jester held mirror for a long minute before raising it up to look in it. Looking would just make this nightmare all the more real, but she couldn’t avoid it forever. With a count to three, she brought up the mirror and gasped. “My freckles are blue!”

“Ja, they are,” Caleb agreed.

“That’s actually really cute.” Her hair was also blue too. Jester had always wanted to dye her hair that color. 

Caleb nodded with a slight blush. “Ja.”

On further inspection, Jester still looked like her. The dimples on her cheeks still crinkled when she smiled and her eyes were still violet. Little bandages now graced her face though and must’ve covered the cuts Caleb mentioned. “Are these Captain Tusktooth bandages?”

“Ja, they were what I could find,” Caleb said looking away. “I wanted to make sure your facial lacerations were protected.” It was actually kinda sweet in a weird awkward way.

“Thanks. And I like the bandages. Captain Tusktooth is a lot better than a lot of people give it credit for.”

Caleb nodded. “Ja, it’s a great story and the animation is amazing.” His flat voice lost some of its monotone.

Jester grinned and leaned forward. “I know! Like that fight between Captain Tusktooth and Avantika was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“The new season’s going to start soon,” Caleb said. “I can’t wait for new episodes. I had the first three seasons on repeat while working on you.” He frowned. “I probably shouldn’t phrase it like that.”

Jester sat back. “Yeah. But, um, could we watch the new episodes together?”

“You’d want to?” Caleb asked. “With me?”

“I mean sure. It’s more fun to watch with somebody and it’s not like I have anywhere else to watch it,” Jester said.

“Oh right.” He looked almost disappointed. “If you don’t want to stay here, I’d understand.”

Jester bit her lip. “Do I have anywhere else to go?”

“You have a point there, but I’d help you find one. After I confirm that you are stable, of course.” 

Jester gave it some thought. “I might take you up on that offer.”

Caleb looked almost disappointed but nodded. “Ja. Please understand that I don’t want you to feel trapped here.”

She already felt trapped in her own skin, but she didn’t say anything. Instead she just smiled at Caleb. If the gloves meant anything, maybe Caleb felt trapped too. Jester knew that she shouldn’t but she liked the idea of not being the only one who felt that way.

“If you need anything or have any questions, you can ask me,” Caleb said.

Jester gave it some thought. “Caleb, you said that you brought me back to prove a hypothesis. What was that hypothesis?”

He gave her the saddest smile in the world rubbing his arms. “Just that nothing can truly be lost forever. There’s something I need to take care of, but Frumpkin can keep you company.” Caleb gave her one last glance and left.

Frumpkin jumped up on Jester’s lap. She scratched his head. “Your owner is very strange.” And kind in his odd way. Jester wasn’t sure what to make of him yet, but she knew that she’d have all the time she needed to. “And who knows, Frumpkin? Maybe this will be fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, I tried to make this a multi-chapter fic, but it just wasn't working. So one shot.
> 
> The title comes from "Live"by Paul and Storm.


End file.
